Dream
by Lover Dearest
Summary: You are so young, I am so old. You are a Rider, I am a Princess. Arya has been having 'dreams' of our young Rider. Rating will change.


I started writing the idea of this quite a while ago; I've just been editing it and making it better. I actually really like the final result, I do believe it can be better but I do like it, and I am hoping to continue it. (: My new project, I will find a way, even though it seems like a simple one-shot, my mind won't let it go, I have too many ideas already, I have to write it down you know. Ever get that feeling?

CP owns it :)

Anyway, enjoy, I love reviews(:

X

…_His hands ran down her sides softly, extracting a shiver. He supported most of her weight on his bare chest; she traced the muscle patterns with the tip of her finger, smiling. A hand left her side to lie on her back; he pushed her down gently so that he could touch his lips to hers._

"_I love you, Arya," He promised, his lips still pressed to hers, Arya smiled, pulling away slowly. She was ready to say the words 'I love you too' though her smile quickly melted when her eyes locked with the light, coffee coloured ones that belonged to none other than…_

"Eragon?!" Arya's eyes snapped open. She found herself at her workbench, in her tent, surrounded by a mess of open scrolls and drenched in cold sweat. She seemed out of breath, panting slightly as if she had just run a thousand miles.

Her throat felt dry and her head throbbed. _Not another dream_. This was beginning to form a strange pattern. Why did the face of the young boy haunt her dreams so? The first one she had tossed aside, believing that she had merely been spending little to no time with the young Rider and her memory refused to let him go.

It was the most foolish, long shot theory and she knew very well. The second time, she ignored though then came the third, the fourth, the fifth; sixth, seventh, this had been spiralling out of control. Each time, the dreams became deeper, they felt more real. Each time, afterwards, Arya yearned to see Eragon, have him touch her, tell her he loved her. No, she could not do that. That would be _extremely _foolish.

_The emotions I am feeling are but a phase, they shall leave me soon._ She swore to herself. In all her years, she had never felt anything quite like this specifically. She did not know what it was. Lust? Perhaps it was. Arya could not help but see the well-toned body of Eragon that always seemed to find its way into her dreams.

The more foolish thing was that she could choose not to dream. Yet she did not. She _chose_ to dream. To dream of Eragon, she _knew_ that she could count on his image to appear in her dreams. A small part of her told her that she thought the dreams would soon cease and yet she blocked that part from her mind. She wanted to dream of him. Perhaps because somewhere within her heart, she knew that it was the only place she and Eragon could truly be together.

_No,_ She snapped to herself. _Why would I even want that in any place?_

That was her response to every alien feeling; you are being foolish…  
What could she do, of course she would have to tell Eragon. Sooner or later, he would find out _anyway_. There would _have_ to be another way, besides personally speaking to him that would reduce the embarrassment for the both of them. She sighed; as usual, the answer was right in front of her, a mess of parchment and scattered quills.

She unrolled a clean scroll and dipped a free quill into her jar of ink. "Forgive me Fäolin," She whispered, for she knew her dreams could take it a step too far. For that, she apologised in advance. She stared at the tauntingly white parchment, what would she write to Eragon to explain these… _dreams_ of hers?

As she wrote, she spoke the words, she said 'no', often, scrunching up her scroll and pulling out a new one. What a terrible waste, she scolded herself for this. _Dear Eragon, I –_ No, scrunch, throw, new scroll please! There was another pattern. Arya did not like patterns very much…

X

Eragon knew that it was wrong, so very wrong to do what he was doing though he could not help himself, she was a sleeping beauty. Eragon stood close by Arya, watching her expressions as she slept.

When she was awake, her face was hard and not a slip of emotion was to be found. In her slumber, every emotion was readable, she was freed. Now, her lips were parted slightly, and her eyebrows pulled together in a brief frown before parting once more. Eragon watched as blood rushed to her cheeks, turning them a deep red. He observed as her hands balled into fists.

Half of her torso was pressed against the desk she had been working at. She pushed herself further against it, frowning. Small choked whimpers escaped her lips. He wondered what in Alagaësia she could be dreaming of to make her so uneasy.

_Eragon, you should leave her alone._ Saphira snapped within their mental link. Eragon frowned though did not reply, watching Arya twist uncomfortably. She looked awfully hot.

"Eragon?!" Eragon jumped back at Arya's sharp tone, believing she knew of his presence. He frowned as her head rose slightly.

_Now we shall see,_ Saphira chuckled. Eragon loved Saphira, he truly did but sometimes… he thought things would be better without her comments. Eragon could feel the pout Saphira now wore.

Arya had remained silent for a few minutes; Eragon could hear her vaguely heavy breathing. Had he perhaps… _starred_ in her dreams? If so, dreams of… what? Eragon knew it was most likey _not_ what his thoughts steered him to believe.

He took a few steps back, to avoid her noticing him and took a seat. He would keep her comfort after what was surely a nightmare, whether she was aware of it or not. Arya's heat had radiated around the room, Eragon began to get very warm also.

Just as Eragon's attention began to wonder, Arya stirred, his eyes snapped up to her instantly. She had taken a quill in her hand and now stared at a long piece of parchment in front of her. Eragon wondered what she could be writing of. Most likely a great tale of her past. His heart nigh skipped a beat when he heard her soft mumbled, speaking as she wrote a word.

"Dear…Er-a-gon," Eragon frowned, she was writing a letter? Addressed to _him_, of all people? "No!" She sounded frustrated; Eragon could hear the paper crumple in her small hands. She may be elegant and dainty though no one could question Arya's strength. Eragon felt a little sorry for the scroll…

He thought back to earlier today and how she had reacted when he had asked a simple, friendly question…

_Arya looked distressed as she leaned over a filled bowl of water, staring at her reflection, disgusted, Eragon wondered up to her. She shot daggers at him as he neared, he raised an eyebrow and her expression hardened, "Can I help you, Shadeslayer?"_

"_Why the dull face?" Eragon asked playfully. Allowing a weak grin to take on his face, perhaps she would smile if he did first._

"_Excuse me?" Clearly, Arya was not in a playful mood, Eragon wiped the smile from his face and glared back at her. There was only a single way to deal with Arya in such a mood; mimic her._

"_What is it that seems to trouble you so?" He asked mock politely, hoping that she would not bite his head off. Arya had been in a sulky mood for the last few days. Her eyes were dull and a smile never touched her lips. Eragon did what he could to cheer her up though to no avail. _

"_I apologise for not reporting to you whenever I have a problem!" She snapped sarcastically, Eragon held his hands up in surrender, Arya's eyes narrowed. "Do you have anything better to do than to pester me, because in case you have not noticed, I am _not_ in the mood?"_

_Eragon rolled his eyes, "No, I haven't noticed," His voice was thick with sarcasm. Two could play at her little game. "You have been in the most cheery mood these past few days, I was wondering what has gotten into you. Usually you are a stubborn, irate, emotionless being."_

_Arya hung her head, "I think you should leave," She said icily._

"_My pleasure," Eragon replied darkly, though he knew he would think of her through the rest of the night, he knew that her words would stay in his heart for the rest of his life. Every word spoken to him was cherished, thought about, lingered on._

Eragon continued to watch and study her as she continued her struggle to find the words, the bundle of screwed-up parchments by her ankles deepened gradually. "Eragon, I have been, expe—no!" Another scroll for the pile. This could be an amusing… game. Count the mistakes. Eragon smiled though felt the heat rushing through his blood, he sighed, stripping off his tunic, hoping to receive some relief. The warm air suddenly felt very cool against his bare torso.

He tuned his ears to Arya once more, "What a waste of parchment, you silly girl. Do you _want_ the trees to fall? No? I would not think so, now _stop wasting _RESOURCES," She snapped at herself, Eragon smiled.

She had remained fairly quiet after her little row with herself, mumbling only few words and the scratching of the quill, "You… Not… Necessity… Meet… Somewhere… Emotions… Understand… New… Together… Tonight…. Love… Love, Arya, no," Eragon could hear the rough sketching of the quill, scratching out a word, "_From_ Arya. "

She sighed, happy with herself. Eragon chanced a peek through the flap of the tent; the light had darkened considerably since he had entered. He did not plan on leaving. He was mildly surprised that he was not called.

_I do more for you than you know._ A familiar voice grumbled, Eragon smiled, thanking her mentally. She grunted through the link though seemed pleased that she was appreciated. Eragon was glad for this, angry Saphira is scary Saphira. She chuckled.

Arya finally put down her quill and held up her final piece. It was a decent sized letter. She rubbed her temple before placing the parchment down and rising from her seat, Eragon watched her as she moved elegantly through the small amount of space given in the cramped tent to find the exit. She did not spare a glance in his direction. He was surprised; usually she was sharper than this. She left quietly; surely, she would be back soon.

Eragon rose, his curiosity taking the better of him, he gazed over the chair that Arya had been on but a second ago, staring at the letter. His eyebrows rose and a smug smile spread across his lips as he read on.

_Dear Eragon,_

_You may not understand my behaviour recently, I do realise that my actions may be rude at times though you must understand. It is a necessity that we stay away from each other. That was what I thought, anyway._

_My thoughts have been getting the better of me; I believe it is just a simple case of lust. I know it is wrong to lust for one so young. I hope that we can meet at a time, to discuss this further, I am unsure of where I stand._

_My emotions are unclear for even I. I can only plead for your support and understanding. It is what I need right now. I hope that I still hold a place in your heart for I have found you hold one in mine. I hope you can understand. The reason I issue this letter is that I have been experiencing… dreams. Of you. _

_I cannot help the attraction. It is strong. Yet you are so young, I am so old. You are a Rider, I am a Princess. The difference is remarkable. Fate must not will us. Though as once said; opposites attract. _

_I try hard; I truly do, to remember a companion of mine. I am sure I have told you of Fäolin, he plays an important part in my life, even after death. I can only pray that you help me to release my grip on his memory. I only want a new beginning. Perhaps with you._

_My dreams. They are of you and I, together. When I awake, all I want is you .I fight strong will to come and see you, really. I miss you, I _wish for_ nothing more than to dream of you. Of you and I. Together. _Together_ Eragon! I feel as if I betray the bond between Fäolin and I, even in my dreams._

_Tonight, so you know, I will dream of you once more. It is the only place that my mind accepts us. If only the world was so understanding. _

_I have considered my feelings and… perhaps… it is _love.

_Please consider my words wisely, Shadeslayer._

_Yours, always, from Arya._

X

Arya sighed; she needed a break, from herself. The cool air was an immediate relief from the stuffy insides of her tent. She had left as soon as the opportunity arose. She had run to Nasuada straight away, bombarding her with offers of assistance. She yearned for a distraction. She was unsure of her letter, unsure whether she should send it and unsure on Eragon's possible reactions. He would be pleased, she scoffed to herself.

Nasuada had sent her away, _'Take a break from this godforsaken war. As the rest of us do,'_ were her words. Arya did not _need_ a break. On the other hand, perhaps she did and was too stubborn to admit it? She felt soft hands trace the outline of her body, gentle lips finding their way around her neck.

_No, Arya, stop this._ She told herself. Of course, herself was too stubborn. She wanted Eragon, for herself. How selfish. What about what _he_ wanted? What about _Fäolin_? She sunk to the floor, just in front of the Lady's tent. Her knees had given way.

"Arya?" Arya froze. Eragon? How sick it was for him to see her as such, sprawled on the floor and unsure of what to do with herself, she dropped her head, her hair fell flat around her face, as well.

She heard Eragon's bones pop as he knelt by her; he revealed a scroll to her under her nose. She frowned, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she realised what he held. No! Her head snapped up to his, his expression was gentle, compassionate. How could she have been so foolish to leave a letter containing information as it did _right there_? To be fair, the letter was intended for Eragon's eyes anyhow though she was so uncertain of it! No!

She choked back a sob unsuccessfully, what was her _problem_ lately? She would cry over _everything_. Poor her, there were other ISSUES rather than her petty problems in this ill-fated land! She felt a hand on her back, _please_, she willed to say. He did not understand her lack of control now, she could snap in a second.

"Arya, please, it's okay," He soothed. Well, attempted to. Arya's eyes narrowed.

"It is _not_ okay! Eragon, I do not know what I am to do! Please, help me; tell me what I can do?" She nigh begged, Eragon, Arya realised, did not wear a shirt, she averted her eyes from his torso.

"Be with me," He whispered.

"Be with you?" She scoffed, Eragon nodded, "You really want that?" She asked sceptically, she felt as if he were taking pity on her. She closed her eyes and unknitted her eyebrows as he brushed back loose strands of her hair. She inhaled, breathing his familiar woody scent.

"That's what I said," His breath was one her cheek now, he was so close, touchable… Arya had to restrain herself, he was so young, he had so much freedom; he was amazing. He could snag any girl he wished. Not Arya.

She felt the soft touch of his lips on her temple. No, he was full of so much more than her. Her silver tears threatened to fall. Not now, right here. His lips still lingered on her temple and did for a second longer before he slipped by her ear.

"Aren't you going to stop me?" He whispered, resuming to plant soft kisses down her jaw. The tears fell, in an endless stream; she opened her mouth, trying to steady her breathing. Why was she making herself look _so _WEAK?

Eragon's free hand cupped her cheek, gently nudging her face to meet his. She could not find his eyes, she would not. She could not do this to him; he had so much, no matter how much she wanted this. No matter what her mind, body and heart willed for, she would not allow it.

Eragon continued, making his way up to her lips, then back down. Down her neck and down her shoulder. Arya did not know what he planned to achieve, though her body lost the will to push him away, if anything, her hands twisted themselves in his hair and she pushed herself closer to him as he lingered by her chest. Maybe just this once, she would give herself what she wanted, maybe this once, she would consider just herself.

She allowed Eragon to push her down gently and bring his lips from her chest to her mouth. He paused for a second, "This is what you want right? You can stop me anytime you feel uncomfortable, you know?"

"I know," Arya smiled. She frowned as she heard a loud, deliberate cough. She froze. She was still in front of Nasuada's tent… Eragon laughed softly before coming to his feet slowly, Arya buried her face in her hands.

"I am glad you are making the most of your break, Arya though I must ask you to… express yourself somewhere besides right by my tent, is that too much to ask?" Arya shook her head, still cradled in her hands. However, she was smiling.

"Eragon," She whispered, she could feel him lean close by her now, to hear her words, she turned her head and peaked through her hands, "I love you," She smiled, Eragon grinned broadly.

"I love you Arya Dröttningu!" Arya hid behind her hands once more, giggling slightly. Perhaps Eragon had said that a tad loudly for now loud chatter buzzed around them and Nasuada laughed along with Arya.

"Eragon," Nasuada began unsurely, "Where is your shirt?"

Yes, she decided, she and Eragon _could_ be together, whether anyone else liked it or not. They would fight this war together, side by side and hand in hand.

X

Doesn't seem like it could go past a one-shot does it? Well, I have no doubts, I really hoped you liked it (:  
I do realise that the ending was a wee bit rushed but I still liked it, I'll be trying to spend most of my free, writing time on this one, but what did you guys think? Good, bad, anything? Review :D


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